


the symbiote one

by justjellyjackal



Series: Spider-Man? More Like WHUMP-Man [6]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Angst, But it's Fake, Fluff, Gen, HE'S HERE, Halloween, Peter Parker Angst, Peter Parker Whump, Science, Whump, a legitimate part, bc I love him, bc i simp for halloween, but thats to be expected, go read one of my other fics, i am an alpha, i think its part two of this series, i'm not phishing for phans, if you want bucky interactions with peter, like usual, ooooh, peter parker hurt, the bucky tag is a little fake, theres no slash other than peter lightly simping for mj, this is a first draft no betas, venom - Freeform, we die like mne, with a part, yes he's present but barely, yes sam has a part in this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:27:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23661547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justjellyjackal/pseuds/justjellyjackal
Summary: Peter Parker is finally living an almost normal life. Sure, memories of past villains abound, and present villains are on the horizon, but he's fine for the most part. That is, until the most notorious symbiote of them all shows up, ready to take on and over the world, Peter at his side and in his control. It's almost Halloween, but the scariest thing isn't always the monsters outside, but the ones within.
Relationships: Peter Parker and Ned, Peter Parker and Tony Stark, peter parker and Sam wilson
Series: Spider-Man? More Like WHUMP-Man [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1075173
Comments: 33
Kudos: 43





	1. the ink blot that would not stop blotting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> disclaimer: i only wrote this bc we’re learning about- no, we *mentioned*- parasites in my ap bio class and i've been meaning to write again and geez yeah so instead of working on my other fics we have this ahaha here oui go y'all  
> disclaimer 2: idc that it's not halloween, i'm bored and sick of quarantine i want halloween and it kinda fits so ha  
> Disclaimer 3: this is set after homecoming but before infinity war but bruce is back and so is bucky and everyone lives in the compound together and peter has fought other villains just i guess the mcu doesn’t like to make peter be capable, y’know  
> So basically not canon hehehe whoops imagine that  
> also unrelated but venom and the squip from be more chill are the same thing change my mind

“Class, today we're going to learn about Rorschach’s Inkblots. Now, this test was developed by Herman Rorschach in the twenties to help psychologists analyze their patients’ personality characteristics, and also to help them gauge their emotional functioning.”

Peter was trying as hard as he could to pay attention to his psychology teacher, but to be honest, all he could keep thinking about was how similar some of the blots appeared to some of the villains he had fought. The butterfly was Vulture, the human head was Sandman, the animal hides even reminded him of Kraven the Hunter… He supposed that meant he had “issues,” or something, y’know,  _ trauma, _ but who really cared? He was a superhero, of course he had problems. 

Ms. Tyball, Peter’s teacher, loved Rorschach, even though she claimed his research and test were phony, and so there were inkblots all over her classroom. On the bookshelves, in picture frames, in the window, painted on the walls as a mural… in the window?

Peter did a double take, unsure of what he saw. Sure enough, there was an inkblot! But… it was unlike any of the inkblots anywhere else in the room. One of the hallmarks of Rorschach’s blots was their symmetry, but this  _ blob _ was just that -an organic, mistaken shape, no true form to it, and definitely no symmetry. Also, this inkblot was… moving? 

Peter rubbed his eyes and blinked, wondering if he had gotten enough sleep the night before, if he was seeing things. When he opened his eyes again, the blob (it wasn’t really a blot) was gone. Peter sat in confusion. Where had it gone?

“Peter? Peter, hon? Are you with us?” Ms. Tyball called. 

He snapped out of his reverie, answering with a short, “Yes?” questioning himself as much as answering her.

Ms. Tyball rolled her eyes, muttering something about a “full moon” and “crazy kids.” There was a murmur of agreement through the class, as they were all used to Ms. Tyball’s “people are influenced by the full moon to act crazy” theory, but Peter once again glanced outside, the sky darkening as he did. 

After what seemed like an age, the bell rang. It was Friday, and the day was finally over. Peter ran to the front of the school to meet Ned and MJ, and the three started their walk home together. 

Ned and MJ were talking about something they had learned in their physics class that day; Peter had taken physics the previous year, and so he sometimes joined in their conversation, but today he was too distracted by thinking about that weird blob he’d seen in the window. 

“Earth to Peter, come in, Peter,” said Ned, waving his hand in front of Peter’s face. 

“Sorry, Ned, I’m here.” 

Ned looked at him, concerned. “What’s up, Pete? You seem… I don’t know, distracted…”

“Uninterested, boring, like you have something better to do, discordant…” MJ supplied, ticking off the descriptors on her fingers. “Overall, just like you don’t wanna talk with us. What’s the point of walking home together if you’re not gonna talk to us?”

Peter sighed. “Guys, really, I’m fine. It’s just… there was this thing… no, it’s stupid. Nevermind.”   
  
“Damn right it’s stupid,” MJ said with a huff, pulling her coat tighter around her. “Anything that keeps you from talking to us is stupid.”

Peter followed suit, also adjusting his coat, and also putting on a hat. Ever since the bite, his temperature had been all over the place, and now it being October in New York, it was getting cold.

MJ tossed her scarf over her shoulder, obviously done with the present topic. “So,” she stated, “Peter. Tell us your secret.”

“MJ,” Peter said, feeling a little sick inside, exchanging a look with Ned, “I don’t- I don’t have any secrets-”

“What are you wearing to Flash’s Halloween party tonight?”

Oh.  _ That  _ secret. 

“Uh… haha… geez, MJ, the secret of what I’m wearing to Flash’s party is a secret even from myself. I have no clue.”

“Dude,” Ned whined, “I thought we were going as Anakin and Obi-Wan! You said you and Mr. Stark made lightsabers and everything!”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Ned, me and Mr. Stark making working lightsabers and you and I going as Anakin and Obi-Wan are mutually exclusive events. Plus, we never got the Jedi robes, remember?”

Ned’s face fell. “Oh, yeah. I guess I’ll probably just go as a ghost, then. My mom’s washing sheets tomorrow anyway, so may as well get them nice and dirty.”

MJ laughed, saying, “Well, I’m going as a murdered child to represent-”

“Why is it always murder with you?” Ned and Peter chorused, also laughing. 

“How dare you say that,” she pouted, pulling off her scarf to start whipping the boys with. 

The two ran ahead, trying to reach the safety of Peter’s building before MJ could hit them. They ducked into the entrance, MJ laughing as she finally caught up to them, taking one last playful swipe. The three nerds laughed, MJ and Ned waving goodbye and singing “This Is Halloween” as they left Peter’s place. 

Peter ran up the stairs, still laughing as he went into his room. He glanced out his window, watching Ned and MJ as they danced away. Peter was still chuckling when he saw another inkblot on the side of the building.

Surprised, he blinked; and of course, the blob disappeared. Peter breathed a sigh that was equal parts relief and fear. This blob kept showing up, and it was gone now, but the fact that it disappeared was just as concerning as the fact that it kept  _ a _ ppearing.

Who could he talk to about it, though?

The phone was to his ear and he was saying, “Mr. Stark?” before he even knew what was happening. 

No one said anything on the other end of the line. Peter’s brain chose that moment to catch him up to the fact that he was on a voicemail, and that the beep had just sounded for him to start the message. 

He sighed, rubbing his neck as he began again. “Hey, Mr. Stark? So, uh.. It’s probably nothing, but… I might be seeing things? I don’t know, not really… I just… I saw a black blob on the window of my psych classroom, and then again just now outside the apartment, and like… it’s just there, and there again, and like…” Peter stopped, realizing he was rambling, and saying something completely dumb and worthless. “I… y’know what, nevermind. We were learning about inkblots in psych and… yeah nevermind, have a nice night.” He hung up, flopping onto his bed.

Peter rubbed a hand over his face, scrubbing his hair back and forth.  _ That was stupid, stupid, stupid. He must think I’m an idiot. God, he’s probably gonna listen to that in front of the team, and Sam is gonna hear it, and the next time I go to the compound my room is gonna be inked or something-  _ He cut himself off with a groan of resignation, and spying the pile of homework he had to do, let out an even deeper groan and sat down at his desk. 

_ Look at me. Doing homework on a Friday night before I go to a party. Des-GUST-ang. _

A picture of the Falcon stared up at him from his physics homework, something about air resistance, so he pushed that aside. It was weird doing homework problems that involved people he knew, but especially people like Sam, whom he routinely pranked and did pranks with. 

There was Falcon in physics, Mr. Stark in psychology (personality tests and traits led to a textbook definition of narcissism as portrayed by Mr. Stark), the Black Widow in chemistry (something about electricity)... but nothing in biology, as they had already covered macromolecules in September, which included Captain America and his steroids. 

So Peter pulled his bio book to the front of his desk, and began reading.

**_SPECIES INTERACTIONS_ **

_ There are many types of species interactions; some are positive, some are negative, and some are ineffective. To simplify these interactions, we will assume that each interaction only involves two organisms. _

_ Predation is a positive-negative interaction. One species, the predator, gains food. The other species, the prey, losses its life. An example of this would be a lion eating an antelope. The lion, the organism who eats, is the predator; the antelope, the organism who is eaten, is the prey. Although predation seems bad, it helps control the prey population, which allows ecosystems to flourish. Without predation, prey species would grow too large, consume too many resources, and be very unstable. _

_ Competition is an example of two negative interactions. Two species compete, generally resulting in negative outcomes for both. For instance, if a lion and a cheetah fight over an antelope, the lion might win the food, but become hurt in the process. The cheetah may escape unscathed, but has lost its meal. Another example is in the pair of the black falcon and the- _

Peter was startled by a text on his phone. He rolled his eyes; of course he had only gotten to read three paragraphs before getting distracted, but thank God it was before he had to read about falcons, because then he probably wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about them and he would accidentally say something in front of Sam and... taking his phone in his hand, he flopped onto his bed again, content to be done with homework for the night.

_ NED: It’s party time. Almost lol _

_ NED: Should I pick you up? _

_ NED: Wait nvm, MJ’s taking me haha _

_ NED: Her mom works upstate so we can take her car to Flash’s _

_ NED: We’re going to Party City for stuff rn _

_ NED: Still need a ride? _

Peter smiled; he was happy that MJ was finally fitting into their group, and even deigning to take Ned and him to a party.

_ PETER: nah i’m good, i’ll just wing over _

_ PETER: *swing lol autocorrect amiright _

He sat for a minute on his bed, and then typed,

_ PETER: how does MJ look? _

_ NED: Haha how do you think? _

A picture came with that reply; MJ was in deathly makeup and fake blood, wearing a black t-shirt that said “ _ think of the children,” _ written in what he assumed was also supposed to be blood. She was smiling and waving at the camera, which was at odds with her bloodied face and the knife in her throat. He couldn’t see the rest of her though, as there was something blocking the lens, which he assumed to be Ned’s sheet from his own costume. Peter rolled his eyes. For being the Man in the Chair, Ned was surprisingly not good at modern technology.

_ PETER: tell her i’m suitably freaked out lol _

_ PETER: i hope you guys don’t scare too many people  _

_ PETER: see ya later ;) _

Donning his Spider-man outfit, Peter figured he might be able to stop a crime or two on the way over, and his suit could just double as his own costume. The perks of being a superhero…  _ Mr. Stark, I’m not being irresponsible, no one would ever think I was Spider-man anyway _ .

He grabbed his backpack, laughing to himself, knowing he was being irresponsible, but just not caring. It was true, no one would ever suspect he was Spider-Man, but would he be using his web shooters for non-Spider-Man reasons? Yes, yes he would be.  _ But Mr. Stark, in my defense, I actually did make the web shooters all by myself and so I’m not abusing The System _ _ TM _ _ , I’m just using my own. And looking super cool in the process.  _

Satisfied with his reasoning, Peter leapt out the window, shooting a web to the next building. He rode the web for a while, gaining momentum, and then let go, letting out another web to keep himself moving. He loved the feeling of near flight, the rush of euphoria from soaring above his city, nothing and everything in his way, but everything to help him get around the obstacles. God, he loved his web shooters.

“Karen, how we looking today?”

_ “Hmmm…. Well, judging by heat signatures, if you take a slight detour, you might find a mugger on Ninth Street between the deli and the apartment building on its left. Be careful though, Peter, they might have a weapon.” _

Obeying the directions given, Peter smirked. “I ‘ _ might _ find a mugger?’ Karen, you need to learn when to use the word ‘ _ might’ _ and when to use the word ‘ _ will _ .’ ‘They  _ might _ have a weapon,’ that was good. But there  _ might _ be a mugger? How do you not know?”

_ “Peter, please try to remember I’m only judging on heat signatures, proximity, and heart-rate. There is room for error; these people could be engaged in one of your so-called “PDAs.” However, if you like, I could run an English subtleties course the next time you plug me in for an update.” _

Peter laughed as he set down on the deli, glancing down to try to spot the mugging going on below, and quietly telling Karen that he was just joking, she spoke fine English. A glint caught his eye, and Spider-Man immediately jumped down to land in between the mugger and the muggee. 

“What the- Spider-Man!” gasped the mugger.

“That’s my name!” Peter said, shrugging his backpack with glee, taking in the situation and trying to find any knives, guns, or other weapons that could be located on the mugger.

_ “He appears clean, Peter,”  _ came Karen’s voice in his ear. 

“Got that,” he whispered back. He quickly shot a web at the man’s wrist, sticking him to the side of the apartment building.

“Y’know, Halloween’s coming up, you could have just waited a few days,” Peter berated the criminal. “Then, you can walk around, and people will just hand you _ free  _ stuff. For  _ free! _ No risk of jail-time, me webbing you up, nothing! As it is, you might not make it out of a cell for Halloween.” He handed back the young man’s briefcase to him, leading him to the street and out of the alley, the man visibly shaken but also grateful. 

“Thanks, Spider-Man! My boss would’ve killed me if I would have lost this lab work… I mean, he’s gonna kill me anyway because I lost the specimen, but this report is all we have left…”

Peter was just about to tell Karen to alert NYPD of the mugger’s location when his hearing caught up to what the young man (scratch that, scientist) was saying. “What do you mean the specimen is lost?”

The scientist loosened his collar, and Peter felt a little bad; the subject was obviously touchy. However, he’d brought it up, so…

“We… my lab, we had a new… a new thing we were working on. You saw on the news when that spaceship came back last week, yeah?”

Peter nodded. It was the first space trip that America had taken in a couple years where the astronauts actually went somewhere, not just to the ISS, and his physics class had been obsessed with it, checking in on the progress every day since their class’s summer project that started when it had launched in July to when it had landed the past Tuesday. 

“Well,” the man’s voice grew quiet, “there was something on the ship when it came back. The astronauts thought it was a bit of oil or something, but what type of oil can survive an interstellar journey? Point is, they came back with a whole bunch of soil samples, but also something we’d never seen before - this weird, viscous goo. We had it pretty well contained, but then… well, it wasn’t really my fault, but… no one else was taking the blame, and they were gonna fire all of us if no one confessed, so… well, I said that I was the one to do it, but… it wasn’t me, it was… snitches get stitches haha, never you mind, but one minute the flask was upright, and the next minute it was shattered on the floor and the specimen was nowhere to be seen. And now my job is nowhere to be seen, but I took these reports home, and now I gotta take them back, and…” the man looked up suddenly. “Why am I telling you this? What are you gonna be able to do about it? I mean, you can save my life, sure, but you can’t quite give me a job, can ya?” he smiled a sad smile. 

Peter’s thoughts were running a mile a minute, but he slowed them down enough to say, “Actually… if you tell me two things, I might be able to. First, what’s your name?”

“It’s..it’s Kantor, Joel Kantor.  _ Doctor _ Joel Kantor, whoops, haha. That’s still new. But why do you care?”

“Well,” Peter smirked, “I happen to know a man by the name of Tony Stark-” Joel’s eyes lit up- “who could probably be persuaded to help out an honest scientist such as yourself.”

Peter turned to go, and then remembered he had another question. “Oh, wait! Joel!”

The man turned around, a grin still on his face. “Yeah?”

“What color was the goo thing?”

The scientist looked confused at the question. “Oh. It was black.” Peter choked a little bit. “Like, this really deep black,” Joel continued, taking a step towards Peter. “And d’you wanna know something else?”

Peter leaned in off the building he was perched on, mind still swirling with possibilities but anxious to hear what the man had to say.

“I think that goo was sentient.”

_ “What?” _

“Y’know, sentient. Like, it could think and-”

Peter slapped his forehead. “I’m not stupid, I know what sentient means. What I mean is, what makes you think that?”

“I don’t know,” the other man shrugged. “I don’t have any real evidence for that, but like…” he struggled to grasp for words, “there were times in the lab, when I would put my hand on the glass, and it would slide right up to cover the space where my hand was. Sometimes it didn’t do it, but if I went for more than about three hours without my hand touching the glass, it always moved to ‘touch’ my hand.”

Peter glanced sidelong at him. “Huh. Maybe...”

But maybe, that goo wasn’t so lost. Maybe Peter had seen it.

“Well, I guess… I mean, I have a thing to go to…” Peter trailed off, shifting his backpack, hoping the scientist would take the hint.

Joel’s eyes went wide. “Oh, my God. You probably have people to save and here I am, rambling on to you about this goo and-”

Peter’s arms flew out to placate the man. “No, no, no! It’s fine! Don’t worry, I talk to people all the time. I just have a, er, an event that my… alter ego needs to attend, if you know what I mean.”

Soft understanding dawned in the scientist’s eyes. “Ah. Your civilian self. Well, I shall not keep you waiting any longer, Spider-Man. I hope you have fun, wherever you’re off to.”

Peter swung away, muttering, “Yeah, I hope so, too.”

_______________________

Peter meant to call Mr. Stark to tell him about the goo, and about getting Joel a job, but then he helped find someone’s bike, settled a dispute about theft, and before he knew it, it was actually time for the party. Peter slowly began to web his way to Flash’s house, a little apprehensive to go to a party hosted by a kid he didn’t like. Still, Peter loved Halloween, and his friends would be there. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Peter spotted a little black something darting across the street. He swung down to grab it, and landed on the railing of a balcony. 

_ “It’s a cat, Peter,”  _ Karen said into his ear. He turned the tiny kitten over, but there were no tags, and according to Karen’s scanning, no chip, either.

“Ah, a stray! Excellent. We can smuggle it into the compound!” Peter carefully placed the kitten in his backpack, and quickly swung up to a less precarious position: the roof of the building.

Peter knew that every good smuggling needed an inside man, and so he called his favorite. “Karen, call Sam.”

_ “Calling Sam Wilson, the Mothafu-” _

“Yeah okay just call him,” Peter spat out, cutting off the title before Karen could get it out. 

_ “What’s up, bug-boy,”  _ said Sam, sounding a little preoccupied, but never too busy for his favorite kid.

“So… I found a stray. Like, a stray cat. No tags, no chip, nothing. Oh and it’s a kitten. And it’s black. Kinda cute.”

_ “And you’re telling me this because…?” _

“I wanna bring her in the compound.”

Peter heard nothing for a moment, and then a soft  _ “yes” _ emanated from the call. 

_ “Do you know the things we could do… ah, Buggy-Man, you’ve really upped the prank game now. Yes, please, bring the cat. We can hide her in my room.” _

“Alright, awesome. Codename Shadow. ‘Cause she’s black.”

_ “Okay, okay, I see where you’re coming from, not bad.”  _ A pause, and then,  _ “But I don’t know, I like Black Thunder better.” _

Peter smiled. “Whatever you say, Sam. She’s staying in your room, so I guess you get naming rights. See you later.”

_ “Yeah, catch you tomorrow, man. And the cat, too…”  _ Sam ended the call laughing, and Peter was sure he was just thinking up ways they could use the cat in their pranks against both each other and Bucky and Steve. 

Just then, he heard a small mewling. He reached into his backpack to take out the kitten to calm her down, but something weird happened. The cat formerly known as Black Thunder would need to be renamed. Peter blinked, blinked hard, and then wondered if he was actually going crazy because this cat, this cat was not black at all. In fact, it was snow white. And fluffy, too. Peter had remembered the cat feeling smooth, but this fur was a floofed as a husky. 

Confused, Peter felt around in his backpack, making sure there were no other cats in it. Finally satisfied that he was unable to remember colors correctly, Peter put the cat back in his pack, and started swinging off towards the party.

But little did he know, the cat had been black, and smooth, from a goo that had once been around her. 

A goo that was now on Peter, spreading, spreading, spreading, turning his suit black, and about to turn him dark, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave comments and kudos! this is my first multi-chapter thing EVER, so i would love some feedback!!!  
> 


	2. the party don't start til venom walks in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oooh what happens when the goo is finally on peter? featuring a party, ned being smart, peter needing to do his bio homework, and a slimy goo who slimes it's way into our hero's life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i got it up! in one week! ah!
> 
> also i have not proofread this so if there is a content error, feel free to point it out!
> 
> and alas, very little whump. but is is coming, my darlings

Flash Thompson’s house was in the suburbs, because of course it was, so Peter couldn’t web all the way there. He got as close as possible, but eventually the distance between streetlights was just too awkward to swing between, so he took off his mask and walked.

He pulled out his phone and texted Ned,

_ PETER: are you guys here yet? _

_ NED: Yeah, we’re at the end of the driveway, still waiting for you _

_ NED: Dumbass slowpoke _

_ NED: Sorry, that was MJ lol _

Peter laughed. Of course it was.

_ PETER: ok i’m at his street so i’ll be there soon _

He jogged a bit, noticing he could already hear the music. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the bite or because Flash was DJ-ing and the music was just that loud. He figured it was probably the latter, as Flash’s parties were known for getting police visits for being noise disturbers, and resulting in hospital visits for bursting people’s eardrums.

Finally spotting Ned and MJ, Peter waved as he came to the end of the driveway.

“Dude, wait!” called Ned, holding up his hand to stop Peter. “Stand in the light for a minute.”

Peter obliged, taking a step back into the streetlight at the edge of the Thompson’s property. 

Ned mouth dropped open as he exclaimed, “What did you do to your suit? Uh, I mean, the suit that you bought? From the store?”

Peter mentally slapped his forehead in frustration. Ned was so dumb sometimes about his secret that it would be a wonder if MJ didn’t know he was Spider-Man already.

“What do you mean?” he responded. “It’s just a normal suit, y’know, the standard blue and… blue and…” Peter finally looked down at his suit, not store-bought, and saw what Ned was talking about. How had he not noticed before? The suit was no longer his standard blue and red, but black. Pure black, and smooth, like a second skin. Now that he thought about it, it was just like Black Thunder had looked…

“Da fuq, that’s dope, man,” Ned breathed. “How’d you do that? Like, dye it or… did you make a new one? I mean, buy a new one…?”   


MJ also looked impressed with it, so Peter was happy. He could avoid thinking about the cat for a bit, and the similarity in their appearances. He just had to get through this party, and then he could think about things like that.

But of course, not everyone was happy with Peter’s new suit.

“What the  _ fuck _ is that, Penis?” Flash yelled the second the trio walked through the door. “PENIS PARKER IN THE HOUSE, WEARING A COLORBLIND SPIDER-MAN SUIT!” He let off some air horns, building up the atmosphere around the group’s entrance and Peter’s apparently failed costume.

Peter groaned, and started trying to get away, but Flash was too fast. He slid through the crowd like the slimeball he was, and sidled up right next to Peter before he could even make it to the kitchen. 

“God, Penis, imagine  _ you _ being Spider-Man. Not that it could ever happen, as you obviously live in the times of black-and-white movies, and therefore before Spider-Man even existed. See,  _ this- _ ” Flash gestured to his own Spider-Man costume- “is what the outfit  _ actually _ looks like. There’s red, and blue, and some silver here… I guess you’re too stupid to know what colors are, though.” He nudged the person next to him, expecting a laugh or a high-five, but too late, he noticed it was MJ.

MJ’s eyes were full of controlled malice; she hated when people made fun of her friends, but especially when that person was Flash. 

“And you think you’re better?” she started.

“What?”   


“You think  _ you _ deserve to wear those threads, that suit, that symbol? You are the last person-”

Peter carefully nudged Ned, hoping to talk to him. As fun as listening to MJ lay into people was, the whole cat-black-goo thing was really bothering him. 

Ned made eyes at Peter, as he also loved watching MJ take someone down, but Peter was emphatic. Ned sighed, but followed his friend away from the crowd.

Peter nodded at MJ, silently thanking her, and she waved him off, knowing he was safer away from Flash and whatever he would do when she was through with him.

“So,” Peter began, “you’re probably wondering about the suit.”

Ned gestured widely. “Um, yeah I am! I mean, when did you have time to do this? What is it? Is it actually a new suit? Is it a stealth suit? Are you going on stealth missions?”

Peter held up his hands, laughing at Ned’s excitement. “I didn’t have time, I don’t know, kind of, no, and no. I’m not going on stealth missions (but I wish I was), so it’s not a stealth suit, and it’s actually my suit, just a little changed, I don’t know what it is, and I didn’t have the time to do this? It just happened.” 

Peter took a breath, and Ned quickly broke in, “What do you mean it just happened?”

“Well, to be honest, when I left for the party, my suit was normal, and now it’s… it’s this. And the thing is… remember when I was distracted after school today?”

“Uh… yes? I mean, vaguely. MJ and I were talking about physics and stuff, remember?”

Peter grimaced, now remembering himself blatantly ignoring his friends that afternoon. “Ah, yes, well... I was distracted. And it was because of… a… blob.” The word kind of fell out of his mouth, lamely, and Ned looked at him, concerned, but Peter continued, “Well, more like a… glob?” This was getting worse. “Okay, uh… how do I explain this? Uh, so… you’re in psych, right?”

Ned looked even more confused. “Yeah, Peter. We did the brain project together in September, remember?”

“Right. So, y’know how we learned about Rorschach’s inkblots today?”

“Yeah…?”

Peter swallowed hard before spitting it all out. “This sounds stupid, but… Ms. Tyball’s classroom has all those blots around it, right? But I saw one on the window, and I thought… but anyways then I saw one outside my apartment, and I definitely thought I was just sleep-deprived? And then, Ned, this was weird, on patrol this afternoon, I… well I helped a scientist and he told me about this weird, sentient goo that had escaped from his lab and then I saved a cat but the goo thing was black and the blobs I had seen where black and the cat was black but then it was white and now my suit is black and-”

Peter cut himself off as he saw Ned’s stare become more and more concerned until he physically sat Peter down.

“Peter,” Ned stated, “Did you tell Mr. Stark?”

“Tell him what? That I’m seeing things? That I’m going crazy? That there’s this weird blob and a cat that changed colors and now my suit?”

“Yeah.”

“Well… I told him about the blob thing after school, but nothing since.” 

Ned sighed, breathing through his nose. “Well… do you think it’s a disease or something?”

“What do you mean?”

Ned looked thoughtful. “Maybe some sort of parasite or something… it was on the cat, now it’s on you…”

Peter was confused.

“Peter, do your bio homework,” Ned rolled his eyes. “If it’s sentient, maybe it’s going from one host to another until it finds something useful. I think one of the smartest guys at Midtown is a much better host body than a cat.” Ned’s eyes shown with excitement. “Who knows, maybe it can mind control you or something! Like those wasps we learned about who force the caterpillars to protect them, that would be cool.”

“No, Ned, that would not be cool!” said Peter, aghast. “I do not want to be mind controlled. This is me, not a caterpillar!”

Ned nodded, still wistful. “Yeah, it would kinda suck, but hey, then we would know if parasites can control human minds!”

Peter threw his hands in the air. “Not helping!”

Ned quickly shook himself, trying to regain his composure. “Right, right, sorry. Are you sure you aren’t just seeing things? I mean, it’s almost Halloween-” he gestured to the party around them- “you probably haven’t gotten enough sleep-”

“Ned!” Peter practically yelled. “My! Suit! Is! Black! And! You! Can! See! It! Too!”

“Ah. Right.” Ned blinked a few times, as if to make sure his eyes weren’t tricking him. “There’s that. Well, maybe it is a parasite. But maybe it’s a good thing.”

Peter looked at him, eyebrow raised. “How could it be a good thing.”

Ned rolled his eyes. “Come one, you must have done  _ some _ of the bio homework. Maybe it’s a mutualism thing, like it could help you and you could help it? Like clownfish and anemones.”

Peter shrugged. “I haven’t gotten that far yet, but… I guess.”

“Or,” Ned said, smirking, “It could be a disease.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, maybe it spread from the cat to you,” Ned shrugged.

Peter’s eyes widened. “Y’know, let’s go back to the mutualism thing. I like that better than being diseased.”

Flash popped up in between them. “PENIS PARKER IS DISEASED?” he yelled, loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Flash, what the- how long have you been listening?” Peter and Ned jumped, unaware of Flash’s presence until it burst their eardrums.

“LONG ENOUGH TO HEAR THAT YOU MIGHT HAVE A DISEASE,  _ PLAGUE PARKER!” _

Flash ran back to his DJ booth, grabbing the microphone, yelling, “IT IS MIDNIGHT, MY DUDES. OFFICIALLY ONE WEEK UNTIL HALLOWEEN. BUT IT’S A SPECIAL NIGHT FOR MY BOY PENIS RIGHT HERE, AS HE MIGHT NOT MAKE IT THAT LONG, BEING DISEASED. I’D SAY IT’S AN STD, BUT WE ALL KNOW PENIS ISN’T GETTING ANY SEX… BUT ENOUGH ON PENIS’S VIRGINITY! LET’S SEND HIM OFF WELL! WHEN I SAY “R.I.P.,” YOU SAY “PARKER.””

“R.I.P.!” Flash yelled.

“PARKER!” the crowd yelled back, even louder.

“R.I.P.!”

“PARKER!”

“R.I.P.!”

“PARKER!”

Before Peter knew it, he was in the booth with Flash, seeing red. And then, seeing himself from the outside, like he was watching his body. And his body was… punching Flash Thompson?

The party fell dead silent, other than an ominous beat drumming in the background.

Peter stood still, aghast, watching the blood drip down Flash’s face from his nose.

“Penis, did you just… did you just punch me?”

“I… I didn’t mean to, what…?”

And suddenly MJ was in the booth, spinning discs and distracting the party from the boys behind her with a remix of “The Monster Mash.” 

“HOW ABOUT THAT BATTLE?” she yelled into the mic, smoothly taking it out of Flash’s limp hand. The crowd roared, as all teenagers do when fights break out. “WELL, WHO’S READY FOR A… DANCE BATTLE?”

And just like that, the surging throngs of teenagers forgot all about the previous predicament of Peter Parker punching Flash Thompson, easily distracted by the thought of their friends throwing it down on the dance floor.

MJ nodded at Peter and at someone in the crowd, and he turned around to see Ned ready to help him make his escape.

“Peter!” Ned shouted over the music, grabbing his arm and helping him weave through the crowds. “What was that all about? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you lose it like that before!”

Peter’s eyes were still wide, and his mind still felt a little out-of-body. “I don’t know what happened!” he shouted back. “It was like it wasn’t even me, like it was some kind of-”

“MONster- MONster- MONster- he did the MASH,” the music blew through their conversation. Peter shrugged in agreement. It was as though some sort of monster had taken over his body and forced him to punch Flash. He glanced back to where Flash still stood, still agape at the fact that Penis Parker had the balls to punch him in his own home. Flash deserved it, but part of Peter’s shtick was that he never sunk to Flash’s low. He swallowed hard, hoping this wouldn’t become a new normal for him.

Ned and Peter finally reached the door, and Peter stuck out his arm to  _ thwip _ away when Ned pulled it back. “Dude, you’re in the suburbs, remember? Also, you can’t just do it in public like that.”

Peter’s answering sigh was heaved with enough force to blow over a small child. He slowly sunk to the floor, saying, “I know, I know. I just… I need to get out of here, and I’m so sorry, I don’t want to leave you guys…”

Ned looked at his best friend, seeing the hurt in his eyes, the regret. “Hey,” he said softly, “I know you need to leave. It’s okay, I’ll just hang with MJ. That was weird, back there, but we’ll figure it out, okay? Just… maybe call Mr. Stark or something, tell him what’s been happening.”   


Peter looked up from his position on the floor. “I’m gonna see him tomorrow though, and I already called him once today, and… I don’t wanna seem pushy, y’know?”

Ned crouched down to Peter’s level. “Peter, hey. Look at me.” He gently took his friend’s chin in his hands and directed the other’s eyes into his own. “You’re not pushy, you’re not bothering anyone. This is- this is a serious matter, right? There was a thing that’s been following you all afternoon, a scientist who might be connected to it, a weird cat, and now it turned your suit black and it might be mind controlling you. This is a genuine reason to talk to Mr. Stark. He’s concerned about you, and your health, he won’t care if it’s the second time you called today.”

Peter took a deep breath, and the two stood up together.

“I- okay. Okay, you’re right, Ned. I’ll call him on my way home.” He smiled, and the two did their secret handshake, prolonging Peter’s departure just a little bit more.

Peter walked out of the house, and turned around at the end of the driveway. Ned was still there, and the two waved. Peter turned back around, jogging to the edge of the street, and then another, looking for streetlights to be close enough where he could get enough airtime to swing home. He ended up running for about fifteen minutes, and then finally started swinging. 

“K _ aren _ ,” he wheezed, “I hate running. This is why I sling webs. Thank God I wasn’t bitten by a cheetah or something, I’d have to run everywhere.”

Karen laughed, a tinkling sound that reminded Peter of a PC’s startup.  _ “Peter, cheetahs can only run fast in short bursts. You’d still have the same problem.” _

Peter groaned. “I know, I know, I watched Wild Kratts too.” 

He swung for a few more minutes, getting lost in the exhilaration of flying through the air, and then remembered. “Ah, Karen! Can you please call Mr. Stark? Something weird happened at the party, and I… I punched a kid, and plus there’s this goo, and-”

_ “Punching another child does not fit my profile for you, Peter. Is something wrong? Preliminary scans do not show ingestion of drugs or alcohol.” _

“No, nothing like that,” Peter sighed. “It’s more like… I don’t know, it felt like something was controlling me, and suddenly Flash had a bloody nose, and…”

_ “Hmmm. I still do not understand, but I will ca- M- St- rk-” _

Peter almost missed a building, completely thrown off his rhythm when Karen started cutting out. “Karen? What’s wrong?”

_ “I can’t- som’thin- in syste-mmm.” _

“Karen!” Peter shouted, coming to a stop on the roof of a building. “Restart suit!”

_ “Can’t- resta-” _

“Yes you can! Override Code: Plankton’s Divorce Papers!” Peter was wringing his hands, unsure of what was going on. Suddenly, his display went black. That must mean the suit had finally commenced the restart process-

And just like that, Peter was on the floor, writhing in pain. “KAREN! Karen, help, run diagnostics, what-! AH!” It felt like his head was going to explode. There was no assailant, no one on the rooftop with him, and he had no idea what was wrong. He just knew that his temples were pulsing, his eyes felt like they were going to fall out of his skull, and his brain… oh his brain, it was on fire, it was going at the speed of light, memories playing out before him at an unparalleled speed, thoughts unraveling and starting anew, and Peter couldn’t think, yet all he could do was think, but all there was was pain and agony and-

**< Hello, Peter. >**

The pain all stopped. Well, mostly. There was a dull throb, but more than manageable. But who… Karen’s voice was much higher, and softer.

**< Oh, I’m not Karen. I’m much better. >**

Okay, that was weird, it was almost like it could read Peter’s thoughts-

**< I can read your thoughts. And your emotions, and your plans, your deepest desires, everything. I have it all right here. But if that’s too much for you to take in right now, you can always talk aloud to me. >**

Peter could feel the other consciousness’s smile through its words. He swallowed nervously, and then began, “Uh, hello. I’m- I’m Peter, Peter Parker.”

**< I know. >**

“Who… who are you? Where’s Karen? What did you- what did you do to her? Is she still there? Turn her back on please, I need to talk to her, I need to talk to Mr. Stark-”

The other could sense the boy’s rising panic, and it quickly tried to placate him, saying,  **< It’s okay, I’m here to help you. Your friend Ned's second idea was correct- I’m not a parasite, although I am the ‘goo’ that you’ve been seeing. I’m a friend, not a foe; a mutualistic symbiote, if you will. Yes, I will live on you, but only to help you. You may ask me to leave anytime you wish. I will obey you. >**

Peter took a deep breath. “So, what… what are you? How can you help me? And can you  _ please  _ put Karen back on? Now I  _ really _ need to call Mr. Stark...”

The not-parasite laughed.  **< Karen can’t help you like I can. You don’t need Mr. Stark, you have me. Walk to the edge of the building, and see what I can do for you. >**

Peter obliged, still wary. “What can you do that’s so great?”

**< Extend your arm like you’re about to shoot a web, but don’t shoot a web. >**

Peter again did as the thing asked, unsure of what was going on. Suddenly, a black stream shot out from his wrist. “WHAT the fuck? Did I just… did you just… what?”

Peter again had the weird sensation of feeling that other consciousness smile, although this time it felt more like a smirk.  **< I can make organic web fluid, child. Now, take a step forward and experience the power at your disposal. >**

With a  _ thwip  _ and another  _ thwip _ and a building momentum, Peter was on his way, soaring through the city on the thing’s own webbing. “This is great!” he whooped.

**< Yes! Now, aim for something you’d usually never hit, and see what happens! >**

Peter shot at a building farther away than his web shooters had the capacity to, and goo’s webs reached it! Peter yanked down on the webbing, absolutely flying through the air, all previous pain from the thing’s induced headache forgotten in the euphoria of a more powerful swing than he had ever done before. 

“THIS!” 

_ Thwip! _

“IS!”

_ Thwip! _

“AMAZING!”

_ Thwip! Thwip! Thwip! _

Peter couldn’t stop the smile spreading across his face, and he let out a joyful cry.

**< Do you want to see what else we can do together? >**

Peter flipped onto a nearby rooftop, rubbing his hands in anticipation. “Yeah, alright  _ goo _ , whatcha got next?” 

Something sparked in Peter’s brain, too quick for him to grasp it, and suddenly his senses felt like they had when he first got bit. He collapsed to his knees, gasping, “Hey, that’s nothing new! I’ve-” gasp- “I’ve felt that before!”

And suddenly the feeling was gone, accompanied by the symbiote's apology.  **< Ah, sorry, so sorry, I just need to… ah, shall we say, ** **_take advantage of_ ** **some of your facilities for a moment. But nevermind that now. If you go four rooftops west, you’ll notice a crime occurring beneath you. >**

Peter looked around blankly. “Dude, just say left or right or forwards or backwards. I don’t know which direction west is.”

He could feel the goo rolling its nonexistent eyes as it said,  **< To the right, Peter. >**

“See, now was that so hard?” Peter backed up to his left, and then took a leap over the edge of the rooftop, easily clearing two in one go. “Woah, that’s new!” he exclaimed. “Was that-”

**< Yes, that was me. My exoskeleton around you gives you many gifts, such as greater speed, agility, and power, as well as webs. >**

“This is so cool…” Peter murmured under his breath. He took another leap, and then crawled down the side of the building, carefullying and quietly. Peering through the spaces in the bars of the fire escape, he saw what the thing had been talking about. 

Dropping down, Peter began, “Man,  _ same _ day,  _ different  _ mugging! You guys need to learn that I’m gonna catch you, no matter what!” 

There were five of them, sure, but Peter could handle that on a regular day, and now he had the goo to help him. A kick here, a punch there, a headbutt, two webs pulled tight to bring two of the muggers’ heads together… Peter began to make a net of webbing to keep all the muggers together, but then he noticed they were actually all unconscious, so there was no immediate danger. He plucked a sparkly purse out of one of the men’s grasp, and handed it to the woman who was kind of cowering against the building.

“Who… who are you?” she asked, nervously snatching her purse back.

Peter scoffed. “Seriously? I’m Spider-Man! The red and blue threads didn’t give it away?”

“You’re… you’re wearing black?” she replied, confused, starting to inch out of the alley.

Peter looked down, and then smacked his forehead. “Oh yeah!  _ Duh, _ haha. Sorry, "new suit, who dis," right? Yeah, still me, your friendly neighborhood arachnid.”

She began to walk faster now, saying, “Oh, okay! Right… well, thank you!”

Peter shook his head. That was kind of weird. He started dragging all the men together when he noticed that one was bleeding. From his head.

“Hey, what-? Did we… did  _ I _ do this?” he questioned.

**< It was a joint effort, but yes. >**

Peter’s mouth fell open. “I’ve never- not- what do you mean? I can’t just… oh my God, what if he’s really badly hurt, I can’t just leave him here, I need to call Mr. Stark, or the authorities, what-” he cut off, wincing as a mental slap rang through his skull.

**< Peter, he’s fine. You did well. >**

“I did… well?” He turned away from the pile of men, a motion a little bit unbidden, but one he was grateful for nonetheless.

**< Yes. Let’s go home. >**

The swing home wasn’t as fun as the swing out, with Peter silently reflecting on his actions instead of enjoying the surges of power.

He came in through the window and was beginning to pull off his suit when the goo spoke to him again. 

**< You know, you could just leave me on and take the suit off. >**

Peter laughed a bit. “Geez, Goo-thing, I like you and all, but I don’t think we’re that far into our relationship-”

**< I understand. Take all the time you need to get adjusted. Oh, and Peter? >**

He stopped removing the suit for a second, waiting. “Yeah?”

**< Call me Venom. >**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and kudos please! it's so much easier to write when i have someone to write for! 
> 
> also thank you to everyone for reading this, it's a joy to write and an even bigger joy to see the hit counter climb!


	3. the horrible villainization of peter parker part one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the aftermath of the party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been a while!  
> haha who knows when i'll update again, def not me  
> but yknow what this is good bc now we're getting closer to halloween and  
> this story takes place around halloween and  
> yeah i probs won't have it finished by then let's be honest

“Peter! Peter, it’s one in the afternoon! Peter? Are you in there? Can I come in?” May’s vociferous tones cut through Peter’s sleep, jolting him awake.

“Yeah, May! I’m… I’m up!” Peter looked down, suddenly aware of something on him. “Don’t- don’t come in! I’m… not…”

“Not decent?”

“Yeah!”  _ Well, of a sort.... _

“Okay! Just come out when you’re ready, we’ll have some lunch.” 

Steps padded away from the door, and Peter sighed in relief. Until he remembered why he told May to stay out.

“Woah, Venom, buddy, I’m still a virgin, right?” The symbiote was covering Peter’s entire body, like a second skin. It was as if Peter had never taken off his suit. 0

**< Of course, Peter. You pulled me off last night- >**

“Yeah, I remember that. How did you…?”

**< I could sense you having a nightmare last night, so I thought I’d help you get out of it. >**

Peter sat on his bed for a moment, confused. “That doesn’t track to how you ended up on me-”

**< Peter. >** The symbiote’s voice was laced with a certain tiredness, as if it had had this conversation before.  **< I can read your mind. Is it that much of a stretch to think that I can maybe… alter it? >**

Peter suddenly jumped up, scrubbing his skin, trying to get the thing off. “Oh my God you  _ can  _ mind control-”

**< No! No, no, silly boy, it’s not like that. First of all, you have a strong mind, so it’s hard for me to influence you at all. Second of all, it’s not like I have control over you at any point. I merely… suggest certain things to your unconscious mind, such as a different dream to have, and then they just… happen. Possibly unbidden, possibly after a slight struggle… >**

“You know, you’re not making this any better for yourself,” Peter said, but he still sat back down and stopped rubbing his skin.

The symbiote sighed.  **< There’s a good boy, see? I would never hurt you, and so you should never hurt me, right? Think of me like a spider on the ceiling in your room. >**

Peter raised an eyebrow. “You do know how I got my powers, right?”

**< Ah… perhaps that was a poor metaphor. But just know that I will not harm you, Peter Parker. I am only here to help. Don’t you remember how you felt last night, soaring through the air? >**

“Peter? Are you on the phone?” came May’s voice from the outside of the room. 

“No, May, I’m just… er, actually, yeah, I’m on the phone, I’ll be out in a bit!” Peter shook his head, frustrated. “Venom, you and I aren’t finished with this conversation yet. But for now you need to get off me, I can’t have May seeing you and freaking out.”

**< There’s no need to worry, see? > ** The goo slid into a form that made it similar to a t-shirt and boxers.  **< I’ll be perfectly covered by your clothing. >**

The teen grimaced. “I mean, that’s great and all, but I said I wanted you off of my body. Please. I just… I need a while to think about this.” 

**< I can feel your fear, boy, > ** the symbiote muttered.  **< Nevertheless, I will oblige. > ** Venom shrugged itself off and slithered into a corner of Peter’s room, hiding behind some textbooks.

“Thank God,” Peter breathed in relief. He quickly took a shower, threw on some clothes, and met his aunt in the kitchen of their apartment. 

Wrinkling his nose as he walked in, Peter joked, “Is there actually any food being made in here?”

A cloud of smoke met his response, as well as the beeping of the smoke detector. “Yeah, we just… ah, the grilled cheeses might be more like  _ charred _ cheeses.” 

Peter glimpsed his aunt for a second through the smoke, fervently batting it away from the detector and out the window. Peter shivered a bit; the October air was biting, although it smelled much nicer outside than in the apartment.

“It’s alright, May,” he laughed, “I’m sure they’re not  _ that _ bad.” Peter gulped nervously as he saw the sandwiches, because they kind of  _ were _ that bad.

“Hey, May?” Peter asked, picking around to eat the parts of his sandwich that he could. 

“Yeah?” 

Peter looked up to see May doing the same thing. “Uh… if there was… y’know, something that could help you. And you used it, right? And then you go to find out that it’s, like, kinda dangerous…? Or, y’know, it might turn into something dangerous if you’re not always on your A-game. What… what would you do?” Peter went back to staring at his plate.

“Peter. Peter, honey, look at me.” He looked back up to see his aunt’s eyes boring holes into his soul. “Are you… uh, are you doing drugs?”   
His eyes widened in shock. “Oh, no! Oh, God, no, May, I’m not… no. No drugs.” 

“Hmmm. That’s exactly what someone who’s doing drugs would say.”

“May…” Peter dragged out her name, rolling his eyes at her laughter. “It's also something that someone who's _not_ doing drugs would say. I’m not doing drugs, I’m not cheating, nothing’s wrong. It’s just a- just a hypothetical question.”

May sat for a minute, contemplating. “Well, I guess… I mean, a knife is kinda dangerous, right? And so is any weapon, and most tools. But if you know how to handle it, you’ll be fine, right?”

“Huh. That’s a good point. Thanks, May!” And with that, Peter raced out of the kitchen and back to his room.

“I really hope he knows what he’s doing,” May murmured to herself.

As Peter entered his room, his phone buzzed, as if on cue.

_ MJ: hey are you good? you seemed kinda off yesterday :( _

Peter flopped onto his bed, happy that MJ cared.

_ PETER: nah i’m fine haha _

_ PETER: sometimes you just need to punch flash y’know? _

_ MJ: yeah, i mean,  _ i _ have punched flash, but never you. _

His mouth scrunched to the side, trying to think up a good explanation for his weird behavior.

_ PETER: hmm maybe i had too much to drink (*o*) _

_ MJ: parker, i don’t think you’ve ever had a drink in your life, much less been drunk. _

_ PETER: who said i was drunk?  _

_ PETER: i mean i was high on capri suns _

_ PETER: god mj _

_ MJ: (◔_◔) _

_ MJ: whatever, penis. _

_ PETER: *gasp* you take that back _

_ MJ: i don’t think that i will.  _

_ MJ: seriously though, i hope you’re feeling better soon and you go back to normal. _

_ MJ: loser. _

Peter held his phone close to his chest; “loser” was one of MJ’s favorite words, and one of his favorites to hear (or read) because he knew it was a term of endearment to her, a sign that she actually cared.

_ PETER: haha i am normal _

_ MJ: whatever you say _

_ MJ: bye _

_ PETER: k bye _

He tossed his phone on his desk, where it was met with a resounding THUD. Peter groaned, knowing it had hit his poor computer. Rolling over to assess the damage, he realized he still had a lot of homework to do; his bio was still sitting on his desk, waiting to be finished.

Peter completed his roll, falling off his bed, landing perched on his toes and fingertips, not making a sound. He allowed himself a congratulatory smirk at how cool that was, and then pushed himself up into a standing position.

He flopped into his desk chair and slowly pulled open his biology textbook.

**_SYMBIOSIS_ **

_ Symbiosis refers to any long-term, close relationship between two or more species _ **_._ **

**< That’s us, Peter, > ** came a voice from behind. Peter turned to locate the source and jumped out of his seat when he came face-to-face with Venom in his out-of-body configuration. The black goo had a form that made it look like a face, but a face in a fun-house mirror. It was grotesque, pulled up and down in all the wrong areas, and yet Peter wasn’t quite frightened. He experienced the same feeling whenever he looked at the faces of insects up close: not fear, but shock.

“S-sorry, uh, what did you say?”

**< Ah, sorry, boy. You think quite loudly, I can’t stop myself from listening. >** Watching the thing’s mouth move was like watching blades of a chainsaw go around.  **< We are symbiotic, as your thin wood sheets say. The… book, I think it’s called? >**

Peter chuckled dryly. “Yeah. The book. Uh, I’ll just keep reading, now. If that’s alright.”

The slime slithered away from where the boy sat.  **< Be my guest. >**

_ There are three main types of symbiosis: mutualism, commensalism, and parasitism.  _

_ Mutualism occurs when both organisms benefit from the relationship, such as the clownfish and anemone. The clownfish’s leftovers feed the anemone, and the anemone’s fierce stings protect the clownfish. Sometimes, mutualistic relationships turn the organisms into obligate symbionts: both organisms entirely depend on each other for survival. This can occur in lichen and fungal growths. _

**< That’s what we are. > **

This time, Peter did jump. “Uh, what? We’re a-” he checked the page- “fungal growth?”

The symbiote had no pupils, but Peter could tell it was rolling its eyes.  **< No, we’re a mutualistic relationship. I give you heightened powers, you give me a place to stay. It’s mutually beneficial. >**

“Oh.” Peter thought for a moment. “I mean, I suppose that’s what we are. But there is still the mind control thing…”

The goo formed a hand, waving off Peter’s worries.  **< They’re just suggestions, not actual control. Don’t worry about it. >**

Peter shook his head, turning back to finish off the section.

_ Commensalism occurs when one organism in a relationship is benefitted and the other is not affected. Take, for instance, the tree frog and a leafed plant it lives on. The frog can stick to the bottom of the leaf and hide from predators, a benefit, and the plant simply goes on existing. _

_ Parasitism occurs when one organism is benefited and the other is harmed. The organism benefiting is the parasite, and the organism being harmed is the host. Some species of wasps lay their eggs (parasites) in a certain species of caterpillar (hosts). Not only does the caterpillar provide food for the eggs to eat but when the eggs hatch, it also spins its own cocoon around the wasp larvae, protecting them so they can assume their adult form. The caterpillar does this because of “mind-control” that the wasps exert over it. Scientists believe that the wasps secrete some form of a hormone to turn off and on certain parts of the caterpillars brain to make it believe that it needs to spin a massive cocoon over the wasps, instead of eat food and make the cocoon over itself. _

Ah, here were the mind-controlled caterpillars Ned had been talking about last night.

**< I don’t do that. >**

Peter jumped again. “You need a bell,” he grumbled. 

The symbiote looked him dead in the eyes before saying,  **< Ding-a-ling. >**

Peter smiled. “Are you… but are you  _ sure _ it’s not mind-control? Or, I guess-” he checked the book, “-hormone control?”

**< ** **_Yes_ ** **, Peter. Why would I lie? I have nothing to gain and everything to lose if you cast me out. >**

“I don’t know, that seems like a pretty good reason to lie,” he shrugged.

Now the symbiote shrugged.  **< Possibly, but you would probably still catch me in the lie and throw me out anyway. >**

Their musings were interrupted by Ned, buzzing Peter’s cellphone with a text. 

_ NED: Hey do you want to come over and build the Lego Avengers Tower? _

_ NED: It has Tony Stark AND Thor _

_ PETER: nah we don’t have enough time, i’m going to the real avengers tower soon, remember? _

_ NED: Oh yeah, I forgot about the Halloween party _

_ NED: Have fun! _

_ NED: Did you get your goo thing figured out? _

Peter sat for a second, wondering what he should say. Should he tell Ned that he might be right, that the goo - no, Venom - could be controlling his mind?

**< I’m not controlling your mind. Just tell him we’re good. >**

_ PETER: we’re good  _

Peter sent the text, not even wondering if he had said exactly what Venom said because he told him to or because he actually wanted to type it out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and kudos are appreciated!


	4. the horrible villainization of one peter parker part two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> another halloween party, another accident...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am ashamed to admit that i needed to look up athletic brands for reference in this like wow i am Pathetic™   
> also at some point i did shift the location to the tower instead of the compound bc the tower is closer and i like it more lol whatever haha just roll with it please  
> and i think this reads ok but lemme know if it’s too slow or too fast or if i talk too much haha i just don’t know please gimme feedback!

Patrol was a breeze with Venom helping him out; Peter got a record of twenty-six criminals in two hours. He kind of noticed that they were a little more banged up than usual due to Venom’s added strength, but something in his mind told him  **it was okay,** he’d get used to the strength and not need to worry about hurting anyone.

Peter swung back home really quick to tell May he was leaving for the tower. He got the customary, “Stay safe, don’t do drugs!” (because he totally would have without the warning,,, honestly, May) and then swung out the window into the night.

Walking into the tower was a trip and a half, especially when Sam’s eyes bugged out at his suit.

“Dayum, kid,” the Falcon said with a low whistle. “When did you get  _ that _ thing?”

Tony’s eyes also bugged out, but for a much different reason. “F.R.I.D.A.Y.,” he said, in an “I’m trying to be nonchalant and failing” sort of way, “Did we give the kid access to the 3D printer? Or the suit maker? Or… something?”   
“Peter has had access to the 3D printer since he first came here, Mr. Stark,” the AI answered. “However, he has not chosen to use this access as of yet.”

“Huh,” the man replied, still confused. No one had noticed the little Q&A session, due to all the other Avengers also complimenting Peter’s suit.

Clint’s voice rang out over the crowd, “Hey, if I woulda known we could just wear a different colored version of our suits, I woulda just done that!”

Natasha cuffed him on the ear. “You big baby, no you wouldn’t’ve. You’re always complaining about how your suit chafes your-”

Clint made a loud noise and quickly took back his earlier proclamation.

“Up top, kid,” Sam said to the spiderling, giving him a high-five with a bit of difficulty; the Falcon’s chicken suit wasn’t made for raising his arms above his head. The two went to the side of the room, backing into a doorway that led into the hallway.

“So… d’you have the contraband? Codename: Black Thunder.”

Peter grimaced. “Actually… it’s a long story. About the suit, about everything, about… and about Black Thunder.”

Sam gave the boy a shrewd look. “Don’t tell me that you suddenly found a chip or a collar on her and now we have to be good citizens and give her back. ‘Cuz I already got stuff for her and you got me all excited and I might have let it slip to Bucky that we have a huge thing in the works-”

“She’s White Thunder now!” Peter burst out.

The man looked at the boy half his age and wondered how he had gotten to this point in his life. “Can you… how… what?”

Peter took a deep breath. “I- it must have been dark or something-”  _ please don’t remember that was yesterday afternoon- _ “but she’s actually a white cat. Really pretty, really fluffy, and just- just really white. Solidly white, actually. Not a bit of black on her.”

Sam blinked once, twice, and then let out a huge laugh, slapping a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Kid, I think we might need to test your eyes. But whatever, we need a new name for her now, that one just sucks ass…” Sam trailed off as his eyes alighted on the kitten Peter was slowly bringing out of his backpack. 

He let out a sound that Peter would liken to a mother the first time she sees her child, his eyes going large and his mouth dropping open and into a smile. He carefully took the fluffball from Peter, making sure to support and hold her correctly. Peter smiled at the nonsensical cooing that began coming out of Sam’s mouth, and he gently pushed the man away towards where he knew his room was.

“Operation Ghostie, that’s what you are, aren’t you, little princess…” Sam’s voice drifted off down the hallway, leaving Peter alone, looking out the window at New York on Halloween night.

Peter felt a light tingling, and then-

“Hey, kid.” Mr. Stark’s voice broke through the blankness of his mind, putting the spidey sense at ease. “How’ve you been? I feel like we haven’t talked too much lately.”

“Oh, I’m fine. How’ve you been, Mr. Stark?” 

Tony rolled his eyes at the formality. “Pete, how many times… it’s just Tony.”

“Of course, Mr. Stark.” He would be belligerent to the end.

Tony scoffed. The two (well, mainly Peter) began talking about Peter’s newest project in the lab at school, which involved using a variant of his web formula to formulate parachutes. And then Peter laughed about how his physics teacher was in love with the Falcon and used him in all of his problems about air resistance for that unit. 

And then Peter mentioned something about his psych class and Rorschach and it triggered something in Tony’s mind from a long-forgotten psych class from  _ his _ days in high school and he decided to break into the conversation with, “Now look, about your voicemail-”

“-from the other day?” Peter looked at his mentor in disbelief. “That was like, a day ago. I’m completely fine now.”

Tony’s face made that expression that Peter knew it made when Pepper started talking about interior design. “You… you’re okay? You sure you’re not sleep-deprived?”

“Look who’s talking” slipped out of Peter’s mouth before he even knew the thought existed.

Tony took a literal step back in shock. “You… you sure? No seeing stuff, no more black blobs-”

“Tony, I’m good, really. If anything, you really do need to get some sleep. Don’t worry about me, I’m fine. Seriously.” He let out a Dramatic Teenager Sigh™ and jumped onto the ceiling, crawling over the doorway and back into the party to a chorus of raucous cheering. It was probable that the cider was hard, so Peter would not be drinking it.

Tony just stood rooted to the spot, trying to comprehend what had just happened. Something was… something was off… “F.R.I.D.A.Y., could you… quietly… get the colonel to come in here?”

A few moments later, Rhodes calmly walked in, a vague inkling in his mind that something was probably very wrong. “What’s up-”

“He called me ‘Tony,’” the man said, just coming to the realization. He knew there was a haunted look in his eyes, something Rhodey would pick up on. Probably. No, assuredly - the one man always knew when the other was in trouble. “He’s not- something’s wrong… or...”

Rhodes settled a hand on his shoulder and guided him to sit at a chair just into the hallway. “Tony,” he said, quietly, gently. “I call you that. Pepper calls you that. Cap calls you that. He’s fine, you’re fine, it’s better than fine, actually. He’s just finally learning to be more relaxed around you. Calling you “Tony…” it’s just a stepping stone in his progress of having a father figure again. His uncle had been dead for what, six months? when you first came to him. That type of thing leaves a big whole in someone-”

“-not like I would know-”

“-not like you would know,” Rhodey allowed, “but like you’d understand. He’s just a cautious kid, and this is good for him. Finally calling you “Tony,” I mean. All of this,” he gestured around the tower, “is good too, but especially the bond you two have.”

“So it’s… it’s okay?” Tony was hopeful, but not convinced. 

The colonel nodded, getting up. He pulled his best friend to his feet, too. “It’s really okay,” he assured him, knowing the other man wouldn’t believe him; but repetition is key. The two reentered the party, one a bit happier, and one a bit sadder.

____________________________

Meanwhile, Peter was freaking out just a bit in a corner of the ceiling. “Venom! What was that?! You can’t just call him “Tony,” I never do that, and I also never sass him like you just did! What if he… he’ll think something’s wrong and then investigate and he’s already curious as to how my suit got turned black and what if he takes you away from me?”

**< Do not worry, you will be fine. He will see that you are growing up, and might give you more leeway on that sort of thing. >**

“That’s another thing…” Peter shuddered. “Since when did you get control of my mouth? I thought we had an understanding.”

**< I can do whatever I want, Peter, but I promise it is only to help you. Saying those things will give you more freedom, more release to act as we- as ** **_you_ ** **want to. >**

Peter shook his head. “If you’re tryna do this to make it look like it’s a part of growing up that is making me suddenly bash bad guys’ heads in instead of just lightly knocking them out, then it’s not gonna work. Patrol is-”

**< Fine? >**

“Yes,  **patrol is fine** , like you said, just stay out of my personal life. Mr. Stark and patrol are not the same thing-”

**< But neither are they mutually exclusive. They interfere with each other, Peter. You need to learn that you need me in all parts of your life, not just the ones you think are necessary. >**

“Who’re you talking to, Pete?” A voice interrupted the conversation of the symbiont and host, much to the chagrin of both. 

Peter swallowed nervously (he’d always been a bad liar) before stammering out, “No one, no one at all, Mr. Stark!”

Tony was not impressed. “So, you just have conversations with yourself now? On the ceiling? In the corner of the room?”

The boy blinked before spitting out, “I was actually on the phone! Yup! With Aunt May!”

From across the room, Thor called out, “Son of spiders! Come, get these apples with us using naught but your mouth.” 

Peter smiled, noting to himself that Thor’s vaguely British accent was made all the funnier when viewed with his American tourist costume of a tropical print shirt, cargo shorts, a disgustingly large floppy hat Peter thought he had previously seen at Clint’s farm, sunglasses that looked like Tony had worn them at one point, and flip-flops that seemed to be one flip away from flopping off the god’s feet. He nodded his consent to come over, flipping away from Tony, barely registering the man’s confused look.

_ Stupid, that was stupid!  _ he thought.  _ I should have just led with the phone call excuse. _

**< Yes, I agree. >**

_ “Yes, I agree.” Gah, the one time you should’ve been helping and you didn’t. What’s the point of you if you don’t do anything right? _

**< I am still learning, Peter. The curve is steep with someone like you. >**

Peter rolled his eyes at nothing.  _ That’s a dumb excuse for a symbiote with access to my entire brain. _

**< No, it’s a fine excuse. >**

_ Yeah, you’re right,  _ **_it’s a fine excuse._ ** _ I’d just rather not get yelled at again, y’know? _

Peter didn’t get yelled at again, but Tony kept looking at him weirdly the whole night. So, maybe he shouldn’t’ve let Venom take over his arm for pumpkin carving, or deepen his voice weirdly for spooky stories,  _ or _ decorate his cupcake. But the poor thing  **had never had fun** , and Peter thought it’d be nice for him (it? who knew) to try to  **see the world, see Earth’s customs, and practice them through him.**

The Avengers finally settled down for a movie after most of the games were played and everyone was a bit more tuckered out than usual.  _ Frankenstein _ was on, but unfortunately the movie just served as a catapult to the next discussion, wherein Bruce got extremely heated about the whole “green skin” thing and the whole “monster” thing and the whole “I have seven PhDs and he’s not even a real doctor” thing and the whole-

“Doctor! He’s new!” Peter suddenly remembered, speaking aloud for the first time in a while. The entire group was startled, including Venom in his mind.

**< What are you doing, child. >** It wasn’t a question, it was a demand.

_ I just- it slipped out? And I promised him I’d try. Just… lemme handle this, I got this. _

“Pete, whatcha mean, bud?” Peter became aware of the entire room staring at him, minus Steve and Bucky, who were off doing God knows what… mostly likely planning a prank on him and Sam.

“Uh…” Peter looked around, nervous as the center of attention in a place where his identity wasn’t covered. 

“I- there was a mugging that I stopped like, yesterday? Maybe? And the guy there, well, he was a doctor, a scientist. The one being mugged, I mean, not the one doing the mugging haha that would be weird why would I talk to the mugger? Haha-”

“You talk to everyone, kid,” came a quiet mutter from somewhere in Sam’s direction.

“-anyways the scientist dude used to work at the lab connected to the spaceship launch thing and they found this goo on the spaceship when it came back so they were studying it but then this scientist accidentally let it go or lost or whatever and then he got fired but then he had to take the papers back to the lab and that’s when he got mugged and we started talking and I said I’d ask you,” he looked pointedly at Tony, “if he could have a job here but I just forgot until now! So please give him a job, he seemed nice and smart and he’s a doctor, a new one, Dr. Joel Kantor.”

“And why,” Tony raised an eyebrow, “would I give a job to a scientist who got fired for losing a specimen, especially one of alien origin?”

“Oh!” Peter’s face broke into a smile. “Because it wasn’t actually his fault, he didn’t lose it, he just didn’t want other people to lose their jobs, and y’know snitches get stitches.” 

“Snitches get stitches,” resounded across the room. Tony rolled his eyes at the absolute children he had to work with.

Bruce entered the chat, saying, “It might be nice to get another scientific mind around here, or at least you could hire him… it’s not like you’re short on cash.”

“Well, I suppose… I mean, do you have a way to contact him?”

Peter rolled his eyes at the audacity. “Mr. Stark, I'm not stupid, I have his number right-” Peter looked stupid for a moment- “right-” and another- “right here!” He triumphantly flourished a scrap of paper that looked like it had seen more damage than the fields of France in World War II.

Tony gingerly took the piece of paper; he could just make out the digits scrawled across it (was Joel Kantor a medical doctor?), and resolved to the group that he would call the man in the morning.

“Well, if we’re all done here,” Bucky’s voice made him known before his physical presence, “how about a few rounds on the mat?”

Peter turned to find the man, his eyes lighting up as he took in the man’s costume - cat ears and a tail - and his matching counterpart of a mouse-eared and whiskered Steve.

“Well?” He raised an eyebrow in Peter’s direction.

Peter looked to Sam, who shrugged, smiling, and then to Tony, who made the same action. He put a “hell yeah!” fist into the air and grabbed Sam’s arm, the two running from the room past Bucky and Steve, eager to be the first ones to the sparring ring. The superheroes thundered down the stairs, skipping steps and jumping and laughing, trying to beat each other in their small rivalry within their larger friendship. Peter ended up webbing the back of Sam’s costume, pulling himself forward and the older man behind, just leaping into the training room first. 

“Hey, Bug-boy, no powers! Remember? That’s cheating!”

Peter rolled his eyes. “It’s only cheating because you didn’t think of it first.” 

“Oh yeah? I’ll show you cheating when we get in the ring!”

This was followed by a resounding THWACK on the side of Peter’s head, which lead to even more chasing around the room until the rest of the gang had filed in and settled down to watch: Clint in the rafters, Natasha against a wall, Tony leaning back in a chair and wondering why he worked with so many children, Thor casually beginning to lift weights, Bruce yet again fiddling with his glasses, and Bucky and Steve whispering behind their hands. 

Peter went to his corner of the ring, ready to strip down to shorts and a t-shirt when a voice stopped him. Literally.

**< Peter. >**

He found he couldn’t move, not one inch. 

_ Hey, I gotta- what are you doing? _

**< I could ask you the same thing. >**

_ Nuh-uh, I asked first.  _ Peter could sense the eyeroll.

**< Peter. You can’t take me off. If you do, you won’t be as powerful. Look, I can just switch to a different form if you insist on “taking off the suit.” But really, it’s not necessary- >**

“Haha actually guys!” Peter’s voice cracked on every word. “I need to go to my room! To get some clothes! I’ll be back!”

Sam put on huge puppy dog eyes. “You mean… you don’t want to fight in our costumes? It might be fun…”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. Fun. Be right back, Bird-Man.”

He raced to his room and slammed the door shut, catching his breath from the stairs. “Okay, so… what do you mean, ‘change form?’”

Venom slowly slunk off his body to talk aloud to him.  **< Well, it’s like this. I can be here, with a ‘body,’ in front of you, correct? But I can also conform to your own body shape. And likewise, I could form shorts and a t-shirt for you. >**

“So you’d still be on me?”

**< I’d still be on you. >**

“And you’d give me your strength?”

**< Of course, boy. >**

He took a deep breath before stretching out his hand. Venom, sensing what Peter wanted, began to coil around his hand, slowly flowing up his body. Peter immediately felt calmer, happier, and more at ease. Venom was like a drug, he realized, but  **that wasn’t a bad thing** **_,_ ** why would it be? He noted the sleek, black biker shorts he now wore, as well as the fitted top. A Nike swoosh appeared on the shorts, and Peter smiled, realizing it looked more like a ‘V’ ( _ for ‘Venom?’ Yes, definitely _ ) than the standard swoop. Hopefully, no one would notice. 

He began the walk back down to the training floor, but then started running, too excited to proceed slowly. He skidded into the room, and Sam let out a low whistle at the sight of him. 

“Hey, short stuff, looking good! I didn’t know you owned stuff that didn’t have science jokes on it.” 

Peter made a face, nearly sticking out his tongue until he saw Tony’s glare. He settled for flipping Sam the bird (how fitting) when Tony turned his attention back to stirring a coffee that had suddenly appeared in his hands.

“I saw that!” Clint chided, ever the dad. At this, Peter  _ did _ stick out his tongue; he was promptly cuffed on the head and told to get into the ring. He hopped up and over the ropes, stopping only when he found his wrist in a vise-like grip. 

“Ah, ah, ah! No tech, remember?” Peter smiled weakly at Clint, the man’s hand loosening as Peter made the motion to unclip his web shooters. He saw Tony nod in approval at him, but  **what did that matter, he was just a human. Peter did not need his support in order to exist.**

Peter settles into a power stance, Sam doing the same thing across the ring from him. 

“Alright, bug boy, let’s see whatcha got!”

As Peter knew he would, Sam lashed out immediately. His strike came from above (the man  _ was _ half a foot taller than him), as it always did, so Peter just tucked into a roll and popped up on the other side of the mat. Sam’s nostrils flared, Peter smirked, and the fight regressed to power stances and circling each other once again.

**< You should teach him a lesson. >**

_ What?  _

**< He always picks on you, he thinks he’s better than you. His pride will be his downfall, but it will be my climb to power. >**

_ No, I can’t hurt Sam- oh, sneaky. Very sneaky, Venom. _ For Peter had finally noticed that while they had been talking, Venom had been slowly inching his way down Peter’s arms to form a long-sleeve shirt; and also to have better control of them. Of Venom’s volition, Peter suddenly leapt into the air with the power of a web (of a web? Where had that come from?) and flew into Sam’s chest, knocking him down. 

_ What. The FUCK. Was that?  _ Peter quickly flipped off of his friend and went to his corner of the ring, trying to hold Venom back and letting Sam catch his breath.  _ Why did you- what- how did you even- I told you “no!” Don’t do that again! _ Peter turned back to the ring and began circling again, Venom still circling in his thoughts, dancing at the edge of his control over his limbs. 

“Alright, kid, you wanna play like that?” Sam’s voice broke into Peter’s thoughts. He tried to shake his head no, tried to say it was an accident, tried to tell Sam about the parasite in his mind and on his body, but he was frozen, frozen in place and in thought and in totality. 

Sam flew at Peter (not literally, of course, Sam was playing by the rules and had taken off his equipment fully), his open fist aiming for a pressure point on Peter’s thigh to take him down. And at that moment, Peter’s mind took a backseat to Venom’s. 

Strike.

Parry.

Strike.

Hold.

Strike.

**Strike.**

**Strike.**

**Strike.**

**Don’t hold back.**

**This is a threat.**

**Take out the threat.**

**Break the threat-** Peter heard a crack and a distant sound of someone yelling in pain but  **it didn’t matter, why would it matter? The threat was neutralized-**

**Something is on our back. Human, 6’, 260 pounds. Metal arm digging into our chest. The Winter Soldier is on our back. Too big for us to overpower, must get him off and strike.** Peter felt himself slam the body on his back against a corner of the ring, a wailing soundtrack of pain still playing in the background. Voices were shouting something that sounded like his name, but  **that was his old name. He was now Venom.** He heard another crack sound from behind him, and took the opportunity to duck sharply, slinging the body on his over top of his head. He vaguely saw it hit the floor and made to hit it on the head, taking it out. 

______________________

Bucky had been through a lot of things, seen a lot of stuff; a pubescent teenager going savage on one of his best friends was not one of them. 

The kid was probably half his weight, and yet he didn’t buckle under Bucky’s added mass. In fact, Peter slammed him against the wall, trying to throw him off. And then the kid succeeded, flipping him frontwards so he landed on his back beneath the boy. Peter leapt into the air, but Bucky knew what was up now. He couldn’t let his little friend hurt anyone else, and so he caught the boy’s fist midair, slamming the boy’s entire body onto the mat beside him. 

He laid still, and Bucky felt a moment of regret. But Peter’s chest was rising and falling, and Sam’s yells were still evident. Bucky laid next to the boy, his own chest rising and falling in time, wondering why that insane look had come into his eyes and where his strength had come from, strength that could overtake even the Winter Soldier.

But Bucky knew. He had seen that look before in the mirror. He knew someone was controlling the boy.

But who?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol you got this far thank you comments and kudos are appreciated


End file.
